Chapter 16 Magical Masquerade #3
I smile up at the lord, then covertly look past him, searching for the room’s exits. Could I possibly take the crown from his head and get through the maze of dancing couples?
No. Impossible, I think, when I spot four lions stationed at every door, wearing the same dark blue as the guards.
They must have magic. They would certainly stop me.
I frown, and the lord’s voice knocks me out of my thoughts. “What’s wrong? Not enjoying yourself?”
“No,” I say quickly. “This… is beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
He grins, revealing a dimple. He really does look kind. And not much older than me. It almost makes me feel bad for plotting to steal from him… though it’s my only way out of this world and to Dreamland.
Also, I don’t know this lord. As nice as he looks, I can’t trust him.
“How does it compare with your land?” he asks good-naturedly, glancing down at my dress and the moving painting of Heartland swirling through its folds.
The question makes me tense, even through Bartholomew’s magic.
You know what? On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t have painted my world onto my dress.
Have I revealed too much about where I come from?
Does he know his crown is a key?
No going back now. I try to keep my tone as casual as possible, even as my pulse is racing.
“Well, we don’t have talking animals,” I say. “And we definitely don’t have masquerades.”
He laughs. “No parties at all?”
“Not really.”
“Well, that’s a shame. You should start.”
It’s not such a bad idea. If Robin ever forgives me for disobeying her and hurtling face-first into the mists… or if I actually make it through this journey in one piece… maybe I can convince her we should start having more celebrations that don’t just have to do with milestones at Swancrest.
For a moment, I think about all the things I’ve already seen on this journey. Maybe I can take pieces back. Change things a little for the better…
The lord spins me, and I turn away, then back again.
His crown… it’s right there. Close enough to snatch it off his head. But I can’t. Not in the middle of all these people.
I have to figure out another plan.
Want to help me? Even more than you already have? I ask Bartholomew.
I don’t know why he would… but he did tell me about the crown in the first place.
Depends, Bartholomew replies. What do you need?
Can you take out the lights? For just a moment?
I wonder if he can. By the way people and creatures alike are stealing glances at him with a sort of reverential awe, I get the sense he’s even more powerful than the others. Or, at least, highly respected.
Bartholomew seems to consider my request. I turn again. Smile at the lord. He smiles back. I can almost feel Bartholomew’s curiosity, wanting to know what I’ll do in a few moments of darkness.
He doesn’t answer.
But a moment later, all the lights go out at once.
Gasps echo around us. A hush settles over the crowd. Pure darkness cloaks us all.
A moment later, the lights are back. Everyone looks around.
Nothing is out of place. The lord’s brow is furrowed… but he doesn’t suspect a thing. Why would he? Nothing is missing.
We finish our dance. He bows, the crown on his head glimmering. I bow back. The music changes, and he finds a different partner.
Thank you, I tell Bartholomew, and he releases me from the magic of the dance. I make my way through the crowd, sauntering toward the doors, trying to look as indifferent as possible. The lions don’t spare me a glance.
I turn into a hall. Quiet.
Finally.
That’s when I pull out the lord’s crown from a pocket I drew onto my dress. The crown that looks almost exactly like the one I crafted with the spider gloves in those few moments of darkness and placed on the lord’s head.
I feel its magic hum beneath my fingers. Bright light spills through them.
The world begins to fade away, the music drifting off as I rush forward, toward my final destination.
But something pulls me back before I can fully leave: a stream of magic like a vise. The music goes almost quiet. A voice cuts through the near silence.
“SEIZE HER!”
Lord Evernight.
Before I can do a thing, the crown is ripped from my hands by an invisible force. I turn—only to see that the hall’s exit is blocked by two lions, one of which has his magic tied around me, keeping me still.
The biggest lion is holding the crown in one magnificent, golden paw. The lord shoves his way through the guards, roughly grabbing the crown back.
He’s not smiling at all, not anymore.
The bat-winged mask falls from his face, and I let out an involuntary gasp as I register his transformation.
His features are contorted into an ugly visage of fury, his eyes tiny crimson pinpoints. He sprouts claws instead of fingers, and sinewy wings grow out of his back. But the moment he shoves the crown back upon his head, he slowly begins to revert back into his false form.
I believed his smiles; I thought he was a kind, good-natured lord.
He’s not.
I know that for certain when he continues to glare at me and says, voice shaking with rage, “Send her to the prisons.”